The Pansy Way Out
by BooJelly
Summary: It all became too real, too fast for Pansy. Four years and she was a twat in every single one. Is it too late to change? She's about to find out. New roles and responsibilities weigh on her and maybe this time she will learn to be herself and not the carbon cut out her parents want her to be. Based in Pansy's point of view with a new but slightly used journey under her feet.
1. Train Cars, Carriages, and a Giant Squid

**Hello! This is my first attempt at a story, it will follow closely to the events in the books but it will be a lose outline as this is not a Harry Potter book. I'll only say this once, I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the characters that come directly from the book or movies. I wanted to take a character, even J.K. Rowling hated, and try to make her likable and her actions forgivable. The end game is slow burn Hermione/Pansy so if you don't like that pairing then don't read. Finally this story will be rated M for violence, language, and maybe mild sexual situations so please take that into account will reading. If I feel that my work has a need of a trigger warning I will state so at the beginning of the chapter but I won't nit pick, so here is a brief warning now: there will be child abuse, dark thoughts, and obviously violence. That out of the way, please enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Pansy Parkinson was sitting in one of the back cars of the train with Malfoy and the rest of his crew. She had pressed herself as far into the corner as her body allowed. Her house robes hanging next to her head almost creating a barrier between herself and the rest of the occupants. Malfoy was already bragging about all the power his prefect badge gave him, giving her a bitter taste in the back of her throat. Frowning she looked out at the heavily wooded scenery that sprinted past her window, and wondered when she had changed. The beginning of last year she would have been gushing over her badge as well. In fact, she would have demanded that she and Malfoy go walk the length of the train searching for excuses to use the power the badge gave her. Now she leaned the corner of her forehead against to cooling glass trying to relieve that pounding headache Malfoy's voice was giving her.

Maybe it was the moment Harry came hurdling onto the stage on top of a corpse. Or his animalistic cries that she still hears in her dreams. How the crowd was silent, not a single word in a group of hundreds allowing each gut wrenching scream that seemed to tare out of the boy to bounce and echo among the stands. Each melodic note touching buzzing ears as if they were listening to a performance and not witnessing the aftermath of a tragedy.

Maybe it was later that day, when she washed the hufflepuff colors from her face. She had supported Cedric because it had been expected of her. She could never support the-boy-who-lived, or any that associated with him. Wild, bushy hair came to mind before she shoved that thought down. She remembered how the yellow paint had swirled around the drain before disappearing. She could have scourgified herself, wiping all traces of the dead boy from her body easily, but this was her way of saying goodbye. She was disgusted with herself, no one had ever gotten hurt before. It had all been talk before that moment. Things her parents forced into her and she had just regurgitated, it had never been real until that moment.

Maybe it was the first time she saw _him_. Reanimation did not do him well. His appearance had this clinical look. His skin would reflect the light as if his body would no longer take in anything but darkness. Its paleness had given her a clear view of the dark veins that carried blood across his body. His nose, though, was a very characterizing feature in that he almost didn't have one. Small slits would flare and take in oxygen and reminded her of a snake. His hand as it lifted her chin to look him in his eyes had a slimy texture. He had caressed her cheek as she held his gaze. Too long, he had used her as an example. No one held his gaze, she had the crucio scars to prove it.

Maybe it was the summer with Bellatrix LeStrange. When Malfoy had failed to show promise in his dueling skills her parent's had volunteered her to take his place. At first she had been overjoyed, this was her chance to make her family proud.

Maybe it was the realization that she would actually never be enough.

Whatever it was she no longer felt the need to live up to expectations. She no longer reached for the love of her parents. She knew now, she would never get it. The only thing she knew for certain was that she would not be a pawn in this chess match any longer.

* * *

As Pansy dismounted the train with the rest of the students she adjusted the cuffs to her uniform blouse, making sure they covered her arms properly. She enjoyed the cold air as it washed through her senses, the train car had gotten so stuffy at the end, the window had fogged up. When she moved to open it Malfoy had whined that it would be cold if she did. _Malfoy_ she thought errantly as she saw him, Goyle, and Crabbe crowding some poor first years.

"Do you know what you are? You're a mudblood," she overheard. Her lips twitched with held in disgust at the slur. "You know what this badge means? It means I can do whatever I want to you, filth." A head of wildly untamed hair turned in his direction. "Look at her cower," Malfoy continued a snarky laugh bursting from his chest and out his mouth. With her robes draped over her arm she made her way over to him.

"Draco the carriages will fill while we dally around to bolster your self-confidence. Are you really picking fights with weaker opponents," she asked flatly. Pansy didn't wait for an answer causing her to miss the look of surprise on the wild haired gryffindor's face.

He grumbled as he rushed to catch up to her longer strides, for the time being she was still taller than him. He sent Crabbe and Goyle ahead to secure a carriage for them. When they were far enough away from prying eyes he reached out and brought her to a stop with a clenched hand around her wrist.

"What is wrong with you? Have you let the summer go to your head?" She could see the mask Draco put on for everyone start to slip. It looked so much like her own, she would have had to be blind not to. Pansy knew that Draco was a prideful little twat; his father had influenced him almost too much. Almost, because she saw genuine concern for her shining in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Last summer was very enlightening. Unlike you, I no longer see the need to live up to my family's expectations. I will do only what is asked of me until I am of age to finally leave. I just hope that I can before he makes his move." Her voice held a broken sort of finality. She would not follow her family into the dark, and she hoped Draco wouldn't either. They held gazes until her words finally made sense to the younger boy. Several emotions flashed across his face before he settled his mask back in place. Draco had always been a terrible liar, and that is why Pansy thinks he let the silence be his response.

The fog licked at their ankles as their eyes followed the movements of the thestrals. Where there had once been self-drawn carriages, were now large winged horses. Their gaunt figures allowed for the bone to show, and their leathery, bat-like wings twitched and rustle with an eerie grace. A lot had changed over the summer.

"I hope so too," Draco finally murmured under his breath before making his way to their carriage, pushing other students out of his way. With a sigh Pansy trailed behind with one final look at the magnificent creatures before her.

* * *

By the time they made it into the great hall, they were amongst the last to enter. Pansy scanned the crowd of students, stopping briefly on Harry Potter and his friends. They seemed to be searching the professors' table. Curious she did a brief scan and immediately realized the the half giant wasn't in attendance. _Curious_. Though her eyes were immediately taken up with a pink blob. A short, squat woman with curly brown hair sat to the headmaster's immediate right. Her beady eyes were locked on the growing number of students but her face was turned to the professor, slightly raised as she whispered into his ear. She had somehow wrapped an offly gaudy fur cardigan around her robe. Pansy cringed at the pink color. Umbridge.

Pansy had met her once over the summer at a banquet with the pureblood families and the Dark Lord. Once had definitely been enough for her. She had been required to attend everything Lestrange went to. Often, mockingly called squire as she was made to serve the adults and provide entertainment by having Lestrange absolutely trounce her. Umbridge had held back, preferring a more delicate touch. When Pansy had accidentally spilt the elven wine Umbridge had procured, she introduced Pansy to her quill. Subconsciously she rubbed the faded scar on the back of her left hand. After the quill incident she had taken her wand to the still bleeding wound, trying everything she knew to somehow obscure the words. The best she had gotten was jumbling the letters that started just below her first knuckle and curved around the base of her thumb.

She was abruptly jarred from the past when McGonagall entered the main hall followed by the rest of the first years. She remembered her first year at Hogwarts, how could she not? This was going to be the place. This was where she was supposed to come into herself and finally find some solace, some freedom. She remembered feeling proud when the sorting hat called out slytherin. This was where she was supposed to belong, and find a family within a group of liked minded people. Her parents would finally be proud, but being led to the dungeons that first time, she was confused. Her legs much shorter than they are now made the walk felt like forever. Each stair case leading them down, and down, and even further down. Until finally they were beneath everyone, even at eleven she thought that it was weird that the dorms were in the dungeons. In all the stories with castles the dungeons were never where you wanted to be.

Pansy watched as McGonagall placed a stool in front of the first years and then lovingly set the sorting hat right on top of it. Ready for the usual speech about the different aspects of each house Pansy was caught off guard when the hat sang a slow, melodic song about unifying the houses, that as it stood they were divided, and divided they could not face the coming darkness.

"... _or we will crumble from within/ I have told you, I have warned you.../ Let the Sorting begin,_ " the hat ended with a flourish. Applause and murmurs broke out; the hat had never done that before. Draco and Pansy shared a look before Malfoy sneered, they knew exactly what the hat was referring to. The warning seemed to be immediately forgotten once the Sorting actually started. Each house cheering its new arrivals, each trying to out cheer the other, each not taking into account the words that had just been sung to them.

Dumbledore briefly rose once the Sorting was done to basically say he wasn't going to say anything and then the food appeared. Not hungry, Pansy made herself a small plate of vegetables and meat. She then proceeded to push the food around her plate, only raising a bite to her mouth three or four times. It wasn't long before Dumbledore rose again. He quickly introduced the new teachers, Professor Grubby-Plank who would be taking Care of the Magical Creatures lessons, and Professor Umbridge who would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He then went through several announcements before a quiet "hem-hem" interrupted him.

Not surprised in the slightest Pansy watched the toad woman stand with another clearing of her throat, hem-hem. The squat woman then proceeded to drone on about the ministry in a high pitched little girl voice, like she was informing elementary students on the way the world worked. Pansy quickly zoned out, her head bowed as she continued to push a single piece of broccoli around and around her plate. She didn't tune back in until students started rising from their seats around her. Silently she looked to Draco who was already herding the first years into a group in front of him.

"Listen up, as you may know I am Draco Malfoy," he said his voice only slightly raised to be heard over the commotion other students made as they left the great hall, "and I, along with Pansy Parkinson are your prefects. Do not ask us stupid questions, do not interrupt us when we are talking, and do not… not do as we say." Pansy smiled slightly at his stumble, this was probably going to be harder than he thought. She let him take the lead as he leads the first years out of the hall, she spared a glance over at the gryffindor table before following behind, making sure that none of the students got lost. Especially the airy blond kid that has bumped into her three times already.

Pansy looked the small child up and down, entirely unsure how this tiny person was even eleven and not seven or eight. She couldn't even tell if it was a boy or girl. White blond hair hung limp, bangs touching nose. At the second staircase the kid was gripping onto her hand. Whether it was because the child kept slipping into her or because the blond was getting more scared the further down they went; but if she had to guess, the slight tremble in the kid's arm and the tightness in the figures, it was fear. She had the strange urge to pick up the kid and carry the blond the rest of the way. She squeezed the little hand and when the baby fat filled face lifted to meet hers she tried her hardest to smile warmly. Just because slytherin hadn't been what she needed didn't mean that she, as a slytherin, couldn't be there when others needed it. Her parents didn't need to know.

"Pay attention, brats!" Malfoy's voice echoed through the stone hallway, "'cuz I'm not gonna show you again. The entrance to the slytherin common room is located on this wall. I want you to pay attention to the tapestries, there will be a quiz."

The first one started immediately. It was filled with a dark forest, the trees cloaked in shadows. Creatures would take flight, and dart between trunks of heavy wood, too fast to make out breed or even species. Fog, unsettled by scurrying feet, floated in streams across the ground.

4The second tapestry was much shorter and filled with simple patterns that would interchange and flow at random times. Never holding the same image twice.

The thirst tapestry was filled with water and a single, solitary creature. It is said to be the image of the late giant squid of the lake. Sometimes tentacles would squeeze the fabric, causing it to wrinkle in a sort of bone chilling way. The size of the creature was staggering. Luckily for the kid, Pansy thinks, the squid is but a smidge in the upper right hand corner, floating in lazy circles.

"Now," Malfoy shouts, stopping abruptly. "Who can tell me what is special about this spot?"

"Entrance," was mumbled into Pansy's sleeve, far too low for anyone but Pansy to hear.

"Anyone of you lot? None of you? And you want to call yourself slytherins!" He practically screeches at the end.

"The passage must be here," and we have the Malfoy of the group, Pansy thinks as she looks to the boy who finally spoke up. Dark curly hair gathered at the nap of his neck in a little leather tie, the last touches of his mother's influence. A strong chin, even with the baby fat weighing it down graces his face, and dark grey eyes squint up at Malfoy.

"Name, boy!" Malfoy demands, Lucius's tone leaking into his voice. The hand in her's grips tighter.

"E-Errol Dedalus of the house of Shafiq," the boy stuttered out. Pansy's eyes widened slightly at the name. One of the houses of the sacred twenty-eight.

"Good," Malfoy smirked, "you lot would do yourself a lot of good by following his example. Now how many tapestries did we pass?"

"Three," again the answer was mumbled into her sleeve.

"Three," Errol said loudly, his confidence rising.

"Thank you Mr. Dedalus but kindly let your fellow class members answer." The quick cut to the young boy's self-esteem, Malfoy must have been spending too much time with Snape, the old man was rubbing off on him. "Now, can anyone besides Dedalus tell me what the tapestries were of?"

"A forest, a design, and water." A soft spoken girl spoke up from the back, her form easily obscured and swallowed by the rest of her classmates.

"You see Dedalus, the rest of your class is smart too," Malfoy sneered at the boy. The rough treatment probably based solely on the fact that the boy was not truly a part of the main house of Shafiq. "All of the tapestries will move and trade images, often combining or creating new ones except these three, these three will always hold the same order, shape, and image - well type of image," Malfoy continued referring to the second tapestry's ever changing design, "and the wall after them will be the entrance to the common room." Malfoy laid a hand on the stone and whispered the password. "The password changes every week and the new one will be posted on the blackboard on the other side of this door." Malfoy had to raise his voice as the wall slid out of place and slowly slid open for the first years.

The slytherin dorms and common room are quite beautiful, once you get passed the cold that is. The walls were covered in this deep green satin wallpaper that would shine, in the right light, like the murkiness of water. Tall, dark wood, book shelves lined the right hand wall. Dark grey, marble pillars held the domed ceiling up. The whole northern wall was filled with glass, holding back the lake that sat, half on top of them. Little nooks, built around the underwater window, offered some privacy. Green light, filtered by the water would usually bathe the room with a calming atmosphere; at night though, it was just spooky. A grand fireplace took up space to the left. Its flame never going out yet never actually warming the room. Small circle tables, each accompanied by two over cushioned arm chairs and a small, dimly lit lamp, populated the main room. A spiral staircase that split half way up led to the separate boy and girl dorms.

"Girls on the left and boys on the right. Quiet hours start at nine on weeknights and eleven on weekends. Prefect dorms are the two rooms on either side of the fireplace, always check the board to see who is on call that night, if you wake me on my night off I'll make sure yours ends very badly. Your trunks have all been delivered to your assigned bunks and breakfast starts at seven. Now get out of my sight, lights out in one hour." Pansy had to admit, she was a little proud at how professionally Draco handled his first task. Especially because he didn't let too much of his Malfoy attitude bleed through it. She almost forgot about the small hand in her until it slipped from her grasp.

"It's not that bad, isn't it?" she asked the small child, trying to smile without smirking. The habit was hard to break.

"Thank you," the small voice murmured. Big brown eyes peeked out of the white blonde tresses.

The cold from the room started to slip around her body, caressing her like a lover might. A slight shiver ran down her spine. The cold would suffocate the kid, soaking into bones, doing nothing but adding to the ire slytherin had for every other house. Yet, even now, this was better than her parents' home.

"If you need anything, even if you're just cold, you go ahead and knock on my door. I don't care what the board says," Pansy said, both her hand on the child's shoulders, "I'm Pansy by the way." She knew she was just repeating what Draco had said earlier but she didn't want to outright ask the kid's name.

"Lisa," the girl said with a slight grin, "Lisa Belle."


	2. Old Baggage

**Disclaimer: Mentions of past parental and mentor abuse.**

 **Also I took some direct quotes from the sixth hp book, thank you Rowling for your amazing brain which created this world!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Pansy Parkinson looked over her shoulder to the clock that hung in her prefect room, she was going to be late for breakfast if she didn't hurry up. The girl couldn't bring herself to move away from the mirror though. She had to triple check that everything was covered. Her blouse was done up to the very top button, and she had tied it tight around her throat, enjoying how it restricted her air flow, at times. It didn't quite cover the scar that reached up her neck, though. It was a dark, muted beige color, not yet completely healed to white as most of her other scars had. It was thin, the thickest part no thicker than a quill. Her mother had given it to her when she had performed badly on a task Bellatrix had given her. The two sided assault from both parent and teacher ensured that she never made that mistake again. She used to charm it so it stayed hidden, no Slytherin cared about the abuse your body had been put through because of your parents, but they did care when you ruined the perfect ideal a pure blood is supposed to represent. Now Pansy couldn't care less. Technically she was in the inner circle, being apprenticed by Bellatrix, she didn't have to rise to anyone's standard. She only covered the other scars to help keep up the facade of Slytherin, she couldn't risk getting into too much trouble before she found her way out. So her sleeves were always rolled down, and her skirt stopped to just before her knees. She could do that.

Finally satisfied she made her way out of the dorms, through the common room, to the stairs where she made her trek, up, and up, and up. By the third staircase her eyes had finally welcomed the sight of natural light for the first time today. The ground floor was her favorite because of how large the windows were.

Not wanting to chance getting them dirty while she ate, Pansy pulled out her times tables, re-checking the room for her first class. She was still surprised to see the name of the class. _Advanced Transfiguration_ was scrawled out in what could only be Professor McGonagall's script. You had to be handpicked to gain access to the class, and most were picked from the seventh year class, not the fifth.

She was entering the hallway off from the main staircase when she heard the Gryffindor trio, who were making their way down the final staircase.

"How do you remember stuff like that?" The Weasley boy asked, his voice raised in his apparent awe.

"I listen, Ron," Hermione droned with a sense of exasperation coloring her tone. She then went on to interrupt his excuse with, "The point is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who's only been back two months, and we've started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat's warning was the same - stand together, be united-"

"And Harry said it last night, if that means we're supposed to get matey with the Slytherins, fat chance," Rot retorted.

Since her first year at Hogwarts Pansy has hung onto every words the wild haired Gryffindor uttered. She was oddly drawn to the know-it-all the second she met her. The facade Hermione put on those first few moments, the one that seemed to cloak her in a better-than-thou complex, rivaled Pansy's own. They had much in common, yet different paths took them into separate directions. Hermione's un-masked, un-cloaked and Pansy's forever shrouded in lies and misdirection. It was almost wishful thinking that we could mend decades of rivalries and bad blood in a single school year. Ron's blind fellowship to a rivalry he personally had no real grievance in, is all the proof she needed that there would be no repairing of bonds.

Hermione kept pushing for inter-house unity, while Harry and Ron made sarcastic remarks about the student that huddled and cowered away from them. Harry's announcement of the Dark Lord's return falling on deaf ears. Fear and the belief that ignorance is bliss causing large numbers of the society to attack the messenger.

Not entirely wanting to eavesdrop Pansy walked quickly through the grand hall doors and to the Slytherin table. Taking her seat next to Malfoy, smiling at Lisa when she made eye contact, (or rather green eyes met blond bangs, with a tiny nose sticking out of them). The small child was sitting next to another girl in her class, huddled slightly behind her, obviously taking comfort in her closeness.

Pansy quickly filled her plate with ham, poached eggs, and hollandaise sauce, steadily scarfing it down so she didn't have to be around Malfoy's continual posturing for long.

As she moved to vacate her spot, Malfoy gripped her wrist.

"You promised to help me study this year for the O.W.L.s," his tone pleading and yet commanding as she had not actually promised that, "We should probably get a head start tonight as we make our rounds."

She slowly met his heated gaze. He may understand her want to not be a part of the Dark Lord's plan, but while she was, she would do as he said and do what _He_ commands. With gritted teeth she nodded.

* * *

She was the first one in her Advanced Transfiguration class and she quickly slipped to the dark corner in the back of the room. She didn't expect to see more than ten other students in this class and more than likely all will be seventh years so she might be able to drop the facade of a proud slytherin here and melt into the background. At least that was what she hoped for until one of the Gryffindor trio walked in, oblivious of the girl in the corner.

Pansy Parkinson took this opportunity to take in the girl without others searching gazes. She smiled to herself as Hermione sat at the front and pulled out a notebook instead of a scroll. Her muggle things always intrigued Pansy. They seemed to make Hermione's life easier with their convenience alone. Pansy had lost count of all the times the scroll she used to take notes was damaged and she loathed carting around the heavy, leather bound journals that most of the other students used.

She enjoyed this shared moment of peace, though it saddened her that the other participant was oblivious to it. Slowly other students sauntered in, claiming seats far away from her, subconsciously or not.

She had been right, there were only eight other students besides herself, and none sported Slytherin green. Most were Ravenclaw, two Hufflepuff, a Gryffindor and Hermione. Her eyes were drawn to the girl again. Hermione's shoulders had dropped a little as if she were aware of the heavy gazes on her back. Yesterday's opening ceremony must have been hard not only on Harry but Hermione too, and maybe that ginger, Weasly. Pansy had almost slipped up and thought of him as wesal. She had forced the taunt from her mouth so many times she had actually started to refer to him as that in her mind as well.

Even now Pansy heard the whispers from the seventh years. There was a rumor going around that Harry Potter had been attacked by dementors over the summer; and to make matters worse the _Daily Prophet_ had been pulling Harry's name through the gutter ever since he claimed that the Dark Lord was alive. _Attacking the messenger,_ she thought again. The paper was leading much of the student body to believe that the stress of being the-boy-who-lived was going to his head and somehow gave them the right to discredit him on every turn, and those that supported him. It didn't matter, those that needed to know that _He_ was back already knew. Pansy remembered the looks on her parents faces when they were greeted with the news. So she would not be participating with the rumor mill as she usually would have done. In fact, she no longer wanted any part in it. She knew that Harry was right because she had seen him, had slept in the same house as him, had been struck by him, had been passed off to LeStrange when he grew bored. If all Harry Potter got were a couple of dementors on his back, he should find himself lucky.

Hermione had straightened in her seat once her head of house entered the classroom. McGonagall, old as a bat but yet not seeming to age past it, moved with light steps down the center of the classroom to the front.

"Good morning class, you are here because you have been handpicked for your skill in transfiguration and the suspicion that some may be animagus." Even her voice sounded old, if that was even a thing. Nevertheless, Pansy's eyes widened at that. If she was an animagus than maybe her p- no, it didn't matter either way. The only way her parents would ever look at her differently is if the Dark Lord did. She swallowed at the hardening saliva in her throat, terrified of the day that, that might actually happen.

McGonagall moved on to calling out names from a list, the whispers increasing in volume when Hermione's name was called, and completely dying out when Pansy's name was called. Each student turned in their seat as if they didn't believe that she could actually be in this class. Hermione, the brightest witch of this age, was one thing but Pansy Parkinson?

Her obligatory smirk slid into place before it abruptly dropped when she remembered that the Dark Lord had punished her for it. How was that even her fault? She had only ever done what was expected of her, and what was expected was a high horse riding, proud pure blood. Right? Pansy tried to shake her inner struggle off, now wasn't the time nor the place to be focusing on that.

Instead she smiled at the professor and politely said, "Good morning." There was a heavy silence as if everyone was expecting her to say more, maybe throw a taunt out, but she sat calmly in her chair waiting for the lecture to begin. Amber eyes met her from across the room, they were slightly squinted in disbelief and a slight pain went through Pansy's chest as it always had when it was expected of her to act a certain way, or whenever Hermione looked at her with disgust or miss trust. That's all she ever really had to do, one look and Pansy was putty in Hermione's hands, though Hermione never seemed to notice. Pansy nodded once to the messy haired girl and moved her gaze to the front of the class, deciding that even though she couldn't be seen fraternizing with the enemy, she didn't have to be mean either. Pansy smiled to herself.

She was finally going to have a say in how she was supposed to act, even if it was a terribly small one.

* * *

Fate seemed to be mocking Pansy, as she quickly realized she had almost every class with Hermione. As if Fate believed Pansy needed a reminder on why she wanted to change. In each class Hermione would eye her up and down growing more suspicious each time Pansy's name was called, she could tell because of the increasing tension in Hermione's body. It wasn't until their D.A.D.A. class that something changed. Picking her usual spot at the back, Pansy was surprised when Hermione sat right next to her. Still studying her as if the answer to Hermione's question was written on Pansy's forehead.

"I'm not stalking you if that is what you are thinking," Pansy said calmly not bothering to look at the other girl. Hermione stayed silent, and staring. It was starting to get on her nerves. Resisting the urge to yell 'what,' she looked at the girl out of the corner of her eye, and raised an eyebrow, "You're staring."

"I'm trying to figure out what happened." Was all the other girl said. Frowning, Pansy decided to ignore her. If the brightest witch of the age wanted to examine her she wasn't going to protest, even if the amber eyes caused a blush to rise to her face. Pansy was almost relieved when rest of the trio entered and sat next to Hermione.

"Why are we sitting next to _her_?" Ron asked grumpily.

"Because this is where I want to sit," Hermione answered simply, still watching Pansy. Not deterred in the slightest Ron continued grumbling about the amount of homework that was already assigned to them.

"Well good afternoon!" Professor Umbridge finally said as the last student entered the classroom. She had been calmly observing the class, patiently waiting at the front until everyone had sat down. She got a few grumbled responses and it was apparently nowhere to her satisfaction as she then went on to say, "tut, tut. That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

Exasperated, Pansy joined the rest of the class in the chant.

Unperturbed Professor Umbridge continued her introduction to the class. Her eyes sweeping the student body, landing on Pansy, they hardened in recognition. The Slytherin girl's left hand flared up with phantom pains causing her to gasp slightly. She could feel Hermione's gaze again, but again, she didn't look at her, just rubbed her hand subconsciously.

Umbridge's reciting of her "class aims" made Pansy want to roll her eyes but they drew Hermione's attention away from her and for that she was grateful. And when Umbridge again requested that the class respond to her questions with a 'Yes or No, Professor Umbridge,' she couldn't hold back her snort, which rewarded her a stern glare and a 'hem-hem' from the short pink blob, who paused in her speech and pulled out a quill. A quill Pansy was intimately acquainted with.

Professor Umbridge started playing with the frills on the feather and an uncomfortable dull ache started in Pansy's thumb. Frowning she glanced down at the rapidly reddening scar and had to stifle a gasp. One line of the first letter had re-opened and little bubbles of blood had pushed to the surface. With a deepening frown Pansy looked back up at Umbridge, a sickening gleam in the Professor's eye as she went on to ask the class to read 'Basics for Beginners,' the first chapter of the book.

Begrudgingly, Pansy brought out her book, careful to keep her left hand in her lap and out of sight of prying eyes. It took her a couple seconds to realize that Hermione sat next to her quietly and patiently sitting with her hand raised. Curious she sat smiling at Hermione as she realized their positions had been switched. Soon the whole class was watching Hermione making it impossible for Umbridge to continue to ignore her.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter dear?" Umbridge finally addressed her. The following conversation was funny up and to a point. The second Umbridge's voice started to shrill, a chill ran down Pansy's spine. It was the tone the Professor used when Pansy had spilt her wine.

"... You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day," Professor Umbridge was saying her tone ringing in Pansy's ears.

"No we haven't," Hermione pushed. Afraid for the Gryffindor, the Slytherin quickly reached over with her left hand and squeezed the other girl's knee. The suddenness and the pleading in the green eyes caused the wild haired girl's next words to trip up, "W-we ju-ust -" Her eyes widening and darting to the Slytherin whose eyes were equally wide, though in fear rather than surprise. Pansy's head shook ever so slightly. She knew Umbridge was going to explode and she rather it not be on Hermione. Pansy's hand involuntarily tightened when Umbridge yelled for Hermione's hand, her jaw tightening. Pansy glared Professor Umbridge down as she continued talking about her predecessor, Dean Thomas interrupting her, and then she continuing her lecture on O.W.L.s.

A pain in her left hand caused Pansy to gasp and jerk her head back around to look at Hermione. A frown drew the corners of Hermione's lips down, her eyebrows were drawn together, and the tip of her right thumb lightly traced the scar and the bleeding cut near the base of Pansy's thumb. Her immediate response was to snatch her arm back but Hermione tightened her grip, another scar catching the Gryffindor's interest. She pushed back Pansy's sleeve to try and get a better look, but the shirt was well tailored. The button kept the cuff in place, so all Hermione could see or the scar was a thin white line, just thicker than a pin's width. When Hermione when to unbutton the cuff, Pansy jerked her hand back and looking away from the Gryffindor. A small intake of breath her only indication of her mistake. She quickly covered the mark on her neck, muttering a quick concealment spell for all her scars. Concerned she frowned at herself, why did she care now about hiding her scars when just this morning she couldn't care less. She dropped both hands into her lap, fists clenched, she didn't even realize her wandless magic had caused the Gryffindor girl's eyes to widen. Yet even this revelation into the skills behind Pansy Parkinson couldn't hold either girls' attention over Harry's sudden announcement of:

"Hmm, let's think… maybe _Lord Voldemort._ " The reactions to the name varied across the class. Most reacting in shock or fear. The argument only seemed to accelerated from there.

Pansy turned, searching Hermione's eyes, trying to tell her to stop him before it was too late.

"It is NOT a lie!" said Harry. "I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" said Professor Umbridge triumphantly, and all of the air rushed out of Pansy's body in one whoosh. Her body slouching in her chair, too late.

With one more attempt at getting the class to read 'Basics for Beginners' Professor Umbridge turned around to make her way back to her desk. So she missed it when Harry pushed up from his seat.

"Harry, no!" Hermione whispered.

"Voldemort killed Cedric, and you know it," Harry shouted.

"Come here, Mr. Potter, dear." The calmness in Umbridge's made Pansy tense up. "Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear." Harry slammed the door as he went and Pansy flinched. He had no idea what he had just done. A sudden clarity entered her mind, maybe she could use the skills she learned over the summer for something actually good.

Pansy quickly pulled out an extra piece of parchment and used the rest of the class period to scribble out the ingredients, and directions, to a potion that would reduce scarring.

Hermione on the other hand didn't take her eyes of Pansy. It was like Hermione was studying her. The end of class couldn't come quick enough. The second it was over Pansy pushed herself up quickly and rushed out of the room, but not before slipping her parchment into Hermione's hands. She wasn't helping the Light side, she tried to convince herself as she moved through the halls of Hogwarts, she was just helping the crazy haired, Gryffindor girl, with the amber eyes.


	3. Failure is Not an Option

**Good Monday Everyone! I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed. It may take me a while to get back to you but I really appreciate you taking the time to not only read my work but to comment as well! Also I must apologize for any grammar error, I am dyslexic and I might not catch all of my mistakes. I hope everyone has an awesome day, peace guys.**

* * *

Pansy Parkinson loitered in the hallway before Professor Umbridge's class and by proximity, office. Here feet steadily eating up the floor as they paced back and forth, unable to stand still. She had taken up muttering to herself the half hour prior, and now just seemed to be repeating the same question to herself.

"What in the world am I doing here?"

She had given up on pretending she was only helping the young Gryffindor girl. If that were true she wouldn't be late for her "tutoring" with Draco Malfoy because she was stuck waiting on one, Harry Potter. Subconsciously Pansy started to swirl her wand around her fingers while she muttered, that tip glowing ever so slightly with the excess magic held just below the surface. She would only have one chance to hex Potter before he would get suspicious.

Hearing footsteps other than her own, Pansy quickly retreated to one of the recesses in the wall, carefully hiding in the shadows. As the steps rounded the corner, Pansy pushed from her hiding spot, her shoulder connecting heavily into an adolescent male's chest. She curved her body around her wand hand and quickly muttered the numbing hex, sending it into Harry's right hand.

He gave a garbled gasp before pushing her heavily back, awkwardly her heels caught and she found herself sprawled out on the marble floor.

"What the hell, Pansy?" Harry threw at her, shaking his hand as if that would restore the feeling.

"Trust me Harry, it hurts," Pansy said softly, picking herself up off the ground. Then louder, "Watch where you're going, Potter. Next time I won't let you off so easily." Her feet quickly carried her out of the hall before Harry could ask any more questions.

* * *

By the time she made it to the Slytherin common rooms she was already twenty minutes late. A point she was sure Malfoy would exploit. Rounding the corner, she was surprised to find the common room empty, more than half expecting to find Malfoy sitting in a cushioned chair in the middle of the room. Frowning at Draco's missed opportunity at theatrics, she slowly made her way to his door, knocking softly.

The door opened almost immediately, a hand shooting out, clutching her collar, and dragging her in. She almost laughed when she was thrust into an arm chair on the other side of the door. The fire call Draco had going made her grateful she didn't though. Putting on her unperturbed face, she straightened in the chair and crossed her legs as Bellatrix's cackle filled the room.

"Awe, pet wasn't expecting me, was she?" Bellatrix giggled merrily, her face contorting in the fire. Pansy's mind raced but she couldn't figure out the purpose of her call. Instead of rising to the taunt, Pansy turned away in indifference. "Oh, hu-hu" Bellatrix chortled, "I do so love your attitude girlie."

"Aunt Bellatrix, was just about to tell me what we could do for the Dark Lord this year," Draco said, obviously aware the attention had been off him for long enough. Pansy happily allowed him to take the lead. The less she was noticed the better.

"Yes, yes I was. We will talk about your appalling manners later, my lovely squire." Pansy's flinch at the name almost went unnoticed, Bellatrix's cackle proving her failure at camouflaging the involuntary movement. "You need to find it. Yes, find it," she continued more to herself. Her recent escape from Azkaban still prevalent in her looks and mannerisms. At the beginning of the summer she had been weak, gaunt, and was probably the only reason Pansy was alive today as she hadn't held back, taking her anger and frustration from Azkaban and bringing it all down on Pansy, with her excessive "training.". Even now months later Ballatrix still hadn't shaken the habit of talking to herself.

"Find what, Auntie?" Malfoy asked with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"The prophecy of course, if we don't get it first. You must get close, he will see it first, before he must find it." Bellatrix laughed again, she was in one of her episodes. The ones where she almost seemed stuck in her own world, repeating what had been told to her. Pansy could always tell by how jumbled her words got, how everything sounded like a divination lecture. There was an abrupt shuffling before Narcissa Malfoy's face burst through the flames, pushing her sister out.

"Draco?" She called, her emberd eyes quickly scanning the room.

"I'll see myself out," Pansy murmured to Draco, allowing him to talk to his mother in peace.

"I'll convey your regard to your parents, Pansy dear," Lady Malfoy called to her as she closed the door. She smiled slightly, Lady Malfoy wasn't trying to be spiteful she was just being genuine.

* * *

It wasn't long before both Pansy and Draco were walking the darken halls. A _lumos_ guiding their way through the dark corridors.

"You aren't doing a good enough job," Draco finally said after they had walked most of the hour in silence.

"What?" Pansy asked having no idea what he was talking about.

"Three more years, Pansy, three more years and you'll be seen as an adult and can finally move out from under your parent's thumb. But in those three years, you have to at least lie better if you want to survive." Pansy glanced sidelong at the shorter boy. His shoulders were tense, forever holding the burdens his father placed upon him.

"Okay, Draco. Okay," Pansy murmured not wanting to add to that weight.

* * *

No matter how many times she has woken up to it, the first few seconds are utterly confusing. Something softly, yet roughly touched her cheek, just under her eye. The sandpaper tongue, lightly brushed across her skin. When Pansy finally opened her eyes they were greeted by a small black nose, and a light pink tongue peeking out from a black muzzle.

Her familiar, Bean, purred loudly in greeting before rubbing his cheeks on Pansy's face, spreading his scent. Smiling slightly, she gave Bean the attention he deserved before moving out from under the covers.

Even before she became apprenticed to Bellatrix she had a predisposition for dueling. Defense Against the Dark Arts, was always her favorite class, she enjoyed the chance to practice the spells and movements she learned in her studies. So when she first entered the prefect room she was pleasantly surprised by the amount of room in it. Now it wasn't large enough to house a whole dueling stage but it was enough for half. The end lined up with a floor to ceiling mirror, allowing her to practice positions. The mirror was also charmed to act like the standard shield charm except the spells would bounce straight back and not be shot off willy-nilly or could even be absorbed all together. It allowed Pansy to practice without the need of a partner. Pansy would be forever impressed by the magic held within the walls of Hogwarts.

The stage dominated the first portion of the room, leaving her bed, desk and wardrobe to occupy the last quarter. Not that she minded, she rather enjoyed the setup Hogwarts had provided her.

Moving through her morning routine quickly, finishing with feeding Bean before heading out. She meet Draco and the rest of his gang in the common room, reset the password, and moved towards the Grand Hall for breakfast.

She was in an oddly good mood, as Draco's posturing did little to dampen it. He was currently trying to convince Crabbe and Goyle that the Dark Lord personally requested him to be _His_ inside man at Hogwarts. Which wasn't un-true but it was less the _Dark Lord_ asked him and more his weasel of a father, Lucius. Draco's father using anything and everything in his arsenal to try to get in better with the Dark Lord, even his own son.

"What has you all smile-y?" Crabbe grumbled to her, obviously losing interest with Draco's continuous talk.

"Yeah you hardly ever smile, Pans," Goyle stated matter of factly. Even that God-forsaken nickname, that the two pig heads insisted on calling her, didn't ruin her mood.

"Just excited for class," she said filling her plate with her usual.

"Geeze, Pansy, anymore and you might as well be that Granger girl," Malfoy said snidely.

"And what's wrong with that Granger girl?" she snapped, before actually thinking it through.

"Uhm, she's a mudblood," Malfoy answered, his voice slightly raised in pitch, his eyebrows drawn together in fake confusion.

"Right," Pansy murmured.

"Girls," Draco snickered, covering for her. Crabbe and Goyle agreed ignorantly and laughed along with Draco. Once both boys were occupied with stuffing their faces Draco faced Pansy, "He had detention last night." She looked over at the boy, he was looking out to the Gryffindor table. "He looks ridiculous trying to eat with his left hand," he continued with another laugh. She added her own lilting contribution, maintaining the cover over the conversation. Snide comments being said, but actually concerning points being brought up. Harry Potter wasn't telling his friends what happened in detention, at least, not yet.

* * *

When Pansy entered her first class, she was again the first in the room, student that is. She immediately noticed the silver tabby that was scaling the crown molding around the ceiling. Nodding politely to the Professor's animagus form she took the seat she was sitting in yesterday.

It wasn't long before first Hermione and then the rest of the seventh year students arrived. Pansy noticed how Hermione and a Ravenclaw student immediately spotted McGonagall, the boy pointing her out for the rest of the class.

Each student gave an envious sigh as the teacher gracefully descended to her desk and slid almost liquidly through forms.

"Good Morning class," Professor McGonagall began, "As we discussed yesterday, you were all picked for your skill in transfiguration, though that skill doesn't automatically transfer to animagus. This class is designed to give you the opportunity to explore that route if you so choose. But be warned, it is a long arduous journey. For some it will take but a month of continuous training, others may find they still need time by the end of the school year. For my two fifth year students, you are taking O.W.L.s this year, and for my seventh years, your N.E.W.T.s. Please take into account the time commitment needed to excel in this class. You still have the opportunity to drop, just because you have the skill doesn't mean this is the path you want to take." McGonagall's eyes roamed over the class, stopping on one or two students, neither Pansy.

"Why would we not want to be an animagus?" a Ravenclaw questioned.

"Quite simply put, there is not much that can be done with the form except in deception, concealment, or personal pleasure. And even then the form your animagus takes may not even be helpful to you. You see you don't get to choose your form, it is predisposed to fit you and your own personality traits. Your patronus may be your only hint to your form, though that isn't always the case. But to further answer your question, let's say you work at the ministry," McGonagall's voice took on a tone of disgust, probably because of all the non-sense it had been spewing lately in regards to the Dark Lord. Or in their case, the lack of him, "and your animagus is a doe, see there isn't much use for a doe in the everyday workplace. Now, let's say you're an aurora, now a doe form could be plenty helpful in gathering intelligence or even chasing down suspects."

"Is it dangerous?" the other Gryffindor asked.

"Very, there is every chance that the spell could backfire. In some instances, it has caused death, in others it has been said to be more excruciating than a crucio."

Pansy doubted that, there couldn't be anything more painful than laying under Bellatrix's crucio. Professor McGonagall continued her lecture on the decision the students would have to make, they had up until the end of next week to decide. Pansy didn't need that time; she was sold on the concealment aspect. She could care less what form she took, as long as it aided her in her eventual escape from her parents. She wasn't misguided, she knew they wouldn't let her go easily. Especially as Bellatrix's apprentice.

"In fact," McGonagall was saying, "there are only a limited amount of animagus in the registry, less then there are students in this class. So my expectations are simple, you will all fail."

 _Fail_? There was no way she could fail. She needed this, she would succeed even if this class was the only class she passed this year.

* * *

That night, after dinner, and before Potter's detention, Pansy found herself scouring the bookshelves for anything and everything on animagus training. If this was going to take as much time as Professor McGonagall was leading her to believe, she would need to get started right away.

Altogether she shouldn't have been surprised when she found Hermione in the library with the same mission in mind.

 _Found_ , probably wasn't the best word. _Collided_ , was more accurate. Books in hand Pansy was quickly making her way out of the library, when rounding the corner had her intimately meeting Hermione's hair. A brief whiff of vanilla was all she got before she was rebounded back. Being taller than the Gryffindor, she tried to compensate for her added force and ended up on her knees, her books scattered everywhere.

"Oh my gosh!" Hermione chimed, "I am so sorry, I didn't see you there." She quickly reached for the books on the floor, pausing as she read the titles. They gathered the books in silence and then stood next to each other awkwardly waiting for the other to talk first. Almost panicked, Pansy adjusted the sleeves of her blouse, pulling at the cuffs at her wrists, and then tightening her tie to almost choking so her scars were covered. These quick, and stuttered movements not going unnoticed by the Gryffindor.

"You can use them once I'm done, or if you want we could read them together?" Pansy finally spoke up, wanting to distract Hermione. She knew there weren't many duplicates in the library and probably no duplicates on animagus as it wasn't as popular a subject.

"Uhm," Hermione said, drawing out the sound like she was looking for an excuse to say no without sounding rude.

"Or not, no worries," Pansy spoke softly before turning towards the exit. She didn't want to make the girl uncomfortable. Just because Pansy wanted to be different didn't mean the world around her did. And definitely not the wild haired Gryffindor girl who had been on her mind the whole week, even if the girl had been preaching inter house unity just a few days ago.

"No!" Hermione burst out, reaching out slightly and catching hold of Pansy's sleeve. "That sounds nice, I've never had anyone keep up with my studies before though."

"Is that a challenge, Granger?" Pansy asked with a smirk, though not a malicious one.

"Uhm, uh, no?" Hermione stuttered her brows drawing together as if she didn't know how to respond.

"Relax Hermione," Pansy said softer, "I was just teasing you. I have utmost faith in myself to keep up with you." The bushy haired girl looked down at her feet and then off to the side not knowing what to say. Probably wondering why, she hadn't taunted her yet, Pansy thought. "I don't have any ulterior motives, if it makes you uncomfortable to work with a Slytherin I understand." Maybe Hermione had only stopped her out of courtesy and not with actual want to work with her.

"No, I think it will be good to work together," Pansy watched as Hermione stood straighter and her chest puffed up with a sense of accomplishment. Hermione probably saw this as an opportunity to lead the way to better relations between Gryffindor and Slytherin. If the two prefects from the separate houses could get along, why couldn't everyone else?

Pansy gave the girl a strained smile, she already felt like she was going to be used as some sort of poster child for peace.

"Did you want any of these for tonight? Otherwise we can meet up here at lunch tomorrow?" Pansy questioned. She needed to make her escape while she could. She had a self-righteous boy to hex.

"Oh, tomorrow is fine," Hermione said smiling up at Pansy. Her happiness almost infectious, almost.

"Wait let me give you these," Pansy put her bag down and reached around inside for her small containers. She had the ingredients for the potion directions she had given Hermione yesterday. Once she had handed over the assortment of roots, and a single stand of centaur hair she had stolen from Snape's personal stores, she turned to make her way to the exit, only to be stopped by a low voice again.

"Is this some sort of scaring tactic?"

Surprised Pansy just stopped in her tracks. She wanted to not be hurt by the words, the amount of hate someone would need to do what Hermione was suggesting… Turning she meet amber eyes, her old mask was so tempting to put back on.

"No," Pansy finally said, "Though someone you know needs it." Pansy rubbed at her hand absentmindedly, feeling the raised flesh there. Which of course didn't go unnoticed. Pansy had a lot of experience with scars and had she found the potion this past summer. She almost wished she had found it her first year at Hogwarts, maybe then she wouldn't have so many. Before Hermione could question who Pansy was talking about, the taller girl was gone.

* * *

Twice in as many days Pansy found herself loitering outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with an internal struggle. She should just keep to herself, drift through the background and patiently wait for the escape she desperately wanted, but the slight sting of phantom pains in her hand prompted her to be here. Umbridge was a terrible person, and no one deserved one of her "detentions," not even the-boy-who-lived. Distractedly, Pansy listened to the chatter that still permeated the halls, students were still moving through them even at this late hour.

When Harry finally made his way into the hallway, Pansy stood in the middle determined not to be ignored. She knew he was going to try to tough it out, but she wouldn't let him. He needed this even if he wouldn't admit to it himself.

So here they stood, on opposite side of the hall, calmly staring each other down, frowns on each of their faces, until Harry gave almost the faintest of nods.

Pulling her mask on Pansy began her spiel.

"What did I just tell you, Potter? You think you're better than me because you're the-boy-who-lived? Do you really think you'll be able to do this on your own?" Pansy was trying to be convincing for anyone listening in, but she also wanted him to understand what she was telling him.

This battle could not be won alone.

"I told you what would happen yesterday," she shot of the hex wordlessly, but flashy, allowing anyone trying to sneak a peek, a glimpse of the powerful beam of red that shot from her wand, grazing Harry's hand. "Consider that your last warning, you are out-matched here. Maybe you should talk to that mud-" her tongue tangled on the word, mask slipping, "-blood of yours for the help you most definitely need." Quieter, just for Harry's ears she said, "you need your friends."

The whole moment couldn't have lasted longer than ten minutes but it left Pansy almost exhausted. She left her second Gryffindor of the day confused and with more questions than when she had arrived in their lives. This was quickly becoming her style. Dropping in with unwanted help, then leaving before questions could be asked of her.

Not too overly concerned about how Harry might take their interactions, Pansy made her way to the dungeons. She had a lot of reading she needed to do tonight. Though it wasn't because she wanted to impress the bushy haired girl when they met up tomorrow. No, that definitely wasn't the reason.


End file.
